


Ghosts of the Past

by Madelief



Series: Mind Over Matter [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madelief/pseuds/Madelief
Summary: Shepard allows the mask to slip....





	

Kaidan just loves to take Shepard by surprise, and in the most unusual methods possible. She'd never expect it of him, especially as she's so adamant that she hates surprises. She should know better, though. His quiet observation on the battlefield - the one that marks him as one of the most capable and dangerous soldiers of her acquaintance - is just as easily put to use to throw her totally off-centre. 

'Liable to shoot your head off. Surprises are bad for our health in this line of business,' was actually the line Shep used when, on one mission, he'd oh so casually asked her. She'd thought it was suspicious, but being shot at by a horde of Geth straight after has a habit of driving the trivial from her mind.

So why, she asks herself in a mix of confusion, pleasure and anger, is she blushing furiously, yet again?

She picks up a faded, yet pristine copy of Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. As her fingers smooth over the cover, a small smile plays over her lips. This isn't the first time Major Alenko has found a way through her formidable defences.

There was the time that she'd moaned about the loss of her favourite crimson scarf on shore leave, then to find a replica nestling in her closet a few weeks later. Or her favourite bar of chocolate only available from home that recently found its way onto her desk - a feat Shepard considers impossible since the invasion of Earth. Such considerate gestures always take her unawares, leaving her uncharacteristically tongue-tied and flushing with pleasure at Kaidan's thoughtfulness.

Shepard is not used to being treated as simply a woman, let alone a woman deeply in love - and, perhaps most importantly, loved in return.

The small things can be big things too. A sad sigh replaces the smile, a welter of conflicting emotions leaving Shepard shaken to the core, slowly allowing herself to take in the last scene she'd been expecting to find.

Sandalwood candles, once upon a time so useful in blocking the nightmares and helping her sleep, adorn her bedside cabinets. As a raw marine recruit, she's never forgotten the derision by the Sargent Major in charge of her squad, mocking the newly enlisted Private Shepard as a 'lily-livered treehugging piece of shit hippie' who'd only won her place in the Alliance thanks to her parents. Said Sargent Major had discovered her one bottle of sandalwood oil securely stored in her personal locker, Shepard and her squad made to watch as the vile man ransacked the few belongings she thought she'd been allowed to keep. Her bras, her underwear - he'd said nothing but the sneer and lavcious grin on his face said it all as he'd dangled each item on display. Her precious Austen books - the two well-thumbed copies she'd kept - were tossed into filthy urinals and the precious bottle of sandalwood oil smashed on the tiles. Shepard vowed to herself, head held high as the bullying continued, that she would never be so humiliated again.

Once she'd completed her meteoric rise through the Alliance ranks, it gave her vengeful delight to send down a man who, she discovered, had done his best to humiliate her mother before her.

'Two generations of Shepards and how many platoons tortured under his reign, and the dickhead didn't learn, ' she mutters. 'Revenge was sweet indeed.'

Such a typical event in the life of a soldier has left its mark, however. Shepard has obliterated any trace of weakness. There is no room for such familiar, foolish comforts as bloody aromatherapy oils or romance novels, no matter how iconic the author. Shepard isn't a woman. She is a tool of the Alliance and no distractions are permitted in her quest to be the very best of the best.

Only with Kaidan does she dare to let her mask come down. Only with him does she feel able to reveal the softer, vulnerable side, without fear of reprisal or judgment. It's an odd position for Shepard to find herself in, a mental adjustment of significant proportions. But so far, she's rather enjoying it, much to her bemusement.

One drunken evening, of course, she'd told Kaidan the whole story. He'd jokingly asked her why her quarters were a barren desert, with no trace of the woman beneath the title. He'd gone quiet as she'd regaled him the stupid story, hiccuping with laughter that, upon recollection, had sounded bitter rather than sarcastic and humorous. Clearly she has work to do on her delivery of punchlines.

And here she is, with her favourite book in her trembling hands, staring at a soothing light show of sandalwood candles diffusing their relaxing scent throughout her quarters. Somehow magically, the ghosts of her past have found their way into her cabin, the horrors of life's cruelty being replaced by the hope and promise of the present.

'I didn't mean to make you cry,' Kaidan whispers, the shock of his unexpected presence, combined with the heat of his breath on her neck making Shepard shiver. 'I have to say though, it's long overdue. There's no shame in tears, you know.'

She doesn't answer, instead twisting in his embrace, her lips seeking his in a desperate kiss. There will be time, later, for her to articulate to this wonderful man quite how much this means to her. What it means, to break through the frozen numbness to simply _feel_ again. The stench and carnage of war are replaced by the burn of passion and stability of love that only one man has the ability to deliver.

Because of Kaidan, Caya Shepard is, once more, alive.  


End file.
